Number Five
by IDStorymakers
Summary: A one-shot, written in honor of Sanji's backstory. The story of a sibling who only ever wanted to keep his brother safe, and what he would do to achieve it. Edit: Now not a one-shot!
1. To Stay Kind

**I honestly just felt like writing it, so I started and... kept going? So here we are! Thanks for reading!**

* * *

She opens her eyes, blinks, and finds herself small.

Too small.

She sighs. She knew all those fanfictions would catch up to her someday.

And wait, she's not… a she anymore. There's something, well, extra added on.

Oh well. She had always wondered what living like a boy was like anyways. Surprisingly, she didn't feel any sort of dysphoria or unnaturality from what little she could tell from her infant body. Maybe rebirth had hardwired it to ground zero. That was a plus, definitely. She could grow her hair out or something. Looking cute was always great, no matter the gender.

Taking another deep breath, he turned around and went back to sleep.

That was his first encounter with the outside world. He'd figure it out later, no use worrying over it now.

It takes him embarrassingly long to learn his own name. But still, thank god for english dub, he'd never make fun of 4Kids again (that was a lie). He'd never be able to handle having to learn a new language, could as well just throw himself into the sea early. Might land somewhere marginally better.

But anyways, his name was Goji Vinsmoke, and he was pretty sure that last name was familiar. Then again, after hearing his other siblings' names (zero through four, no wonder the mother had died), it was kind of obvious where he had landed. Smack dab in the hideous mess Sanji's childhood.

Great.

Thank the gods (or Oda, he supposed) that the whole Germa 66 thing came out before he died. Also thank himself for reading most of it, since he hadn't been that much of a One Piece guy. Or girl, whatever. He knew most of the manga stuff, kind of, but only secondary information. Everything up until the Alabasta arc was clear, but then his knowledge more or less jumped forward to Ace's death, and apparently there was a two year time skip? It was fairly confusing. And way too long. He'd gotten bored pretty quick.

But he digressed, he was super lucky he had eventually developed a fondness (Read; intense fictional crush) for the flirtatious cook back in the day, or else he'd be here completely blind. That would be immensely not fun. So, so much not fun.

On the note of fondness...Would he even be straight? He was a girl turned physically-and-mostly-mentally guy. Or at least, molded into one. Or something. Who knew?

(On another more disturbing note, wasn't that basically like… having a crush on his sibling now? Creepy, no thanks. Best not to think about it.)

Back to Sanji. He twisted his fat baby head around to stare at what he assumed was the guy. Hard to tell, surrounded by his more-or-less quintuplets until more distinguishing features grew in. He would always be the runt in this group, assuming Goji himself didn't fall behind (An actual possibility, she had hated exercising) but was canonically always the kindest and the most compassionate. Like Mother, from what little he saw of her.

Of course, from this potential to be a decent human being would stem years of abuse and neglect from his family, who would shun and bully the boy who worked so hard to earn their love and respect. Oh, the irony. The sister (Zeroji? He actually had no idea) had been less of a hellion and tried to help at times, but mostly just a bystander out of fear. She would eventually set him free from a dungeon their Father had locked him in.

Their Father. His Father. He'd deal with that later.

Goji tried to understand. He really did. But from what little he knew about this world, where corruption ruined the great and hurt tore open the kind, he couldn't muster up less than a bad taste on his tongue when it came to the torment Sanji had (or would) gone through.

(She had been bullied. Not nearly as severely as Sanji, but she had, and for a while. And with it had come a wallowing wave of thick loneliness and anxiety that had nearly swallowed her, even years later.)

He wouldn't let that happened to someone else, not if he could help it. And for that, he needed a plan. Despite all that brave talk, Goji was unfortunately not selfless enough to save someone at the risk of his own sense of self. One life had been enough for that, thank you. He wanted to protect Sanji from as much brutality as possible, but he needed to keep himself safe as well.

What could he do?

Helping him directly would probably get him beat up… or reported to his Father. Helping him indirectly didn't feel like enough. Maybe he could stay behind a bit at times to make him seem less crappy in comparison to his genius everyone's? Nah, they'd catch on sooner or later. How would he make himself impenetrable enough to save someone else?

Impenetrable…

Perhaps he could… Maybe? Possibly? Could he really do that? Force himself to be the strongest, the smartest, the best of all of them, so much better than them all so that he could hold power over his siblings and respect under his Father?

He had 16 years of life under his belt. All of them as a studious individual, although lazy to a fault when it came to exercise. When it came to brainpower, he was in the upper faction. And now, with a body that was superpowered or something that was basically impossible in the real world…

Goji would give it a try, he decided.

And he did.

He starts talking and walking earlier, so much earlier than his male siblings (not that hard, seeing as he'd done it before for so long already) which means he starts training himself faster. As much as he hated exercising back then, in a body that's literally made to fight even the most hellish training isn't nearly as bad as it should have been. The fast healing is a boon from the heavens themselves.

(It is also surprisingly easy, he finds, to pull strength from himself when there was something to protect. Cheesy as it may be, whenever it comes to the point where his toddler body is ready to give out from the pressure, bringing his memories of the future to the forefront of his mind gives him the energy to move just a tiny bit further. Thanks, Luffy, for making him into an actual sap.)

He trains and he trains and trains as desperately as he can, running when it's not required, swimming when he doesn't have to, sloughing through pushups and pullups and every exercise imaginable. He doesn't talk to anyone much, but he didn't mind. It lets him focus more, think harder. Eventually, he comes to love the burn of pushing himself to the limit, the sweat in his eyes and the clenching of his chest when oxygen was in short supply.

He comes to love his siblings. Or at least, most of them. Some of the time. It was obvious why he liked Sanji, who would turn out to be decidedly less asshole-ish than the rest of the group. But even the others, who are but mere infants at this point in time, slowly grow on him.

… He really, really misses him own family, though. His own world… But they would want him to keep moving on. He's sure of it.

He has to be.

Whenever his Father decides to check on him, he pulls his most fancy, hoity-toity vocabulary from the recesses of his brain dictionary. It seems to make him happy, or at least look on him with favor. Whenever he went to check on Mother, he listens carefully, ears perked up. Wisdom came from the old and experienced, and she was the kindest person he had known in this lifetime.

His past-That is to say, her dad-hadn't turned out to be a massive asshole, though. Small blessings.

One day, Reiju (That was her name, apparently. He'd liked Zeroji better.) asks him why he works so hard, peering down at him from above as he lies collapsed on the ground. Goji blinks, smiles, and doesn't reply.

He likes to think it was mysterious. Reiju just thinks he's weird.

Then again, a lot of people thought he was weird. But the respectful thought, one of awe. After all, he was the genius Prince of the Vinsmoke family, one who could walk and talk from the day he was born, picked up knowledge like a dry sponge, and could maybe beat a grown man in spar. The youngest and yet the best, he genius of geniuses. It's almost fun to watch eyes widen in shock at his ability, although it gets a bit old after a while.

It's not a bad life, overall. Not yet.

Not until the plot begins.

His eyes are dry when news of his Mother's death arrives. So are his Father's. He wonders if either of them loved her at all, and works harder.

Scientists scratch their heads at him, astounded at the rate of his growth. It almost makes the rest of his family seem lackluster. Sucks to be them. Hopefully they wouldn't hold too much animosity over this. Probably wouldn't, they'd be too busy aiming it at Sanji.

In any case, his siblings start training much later than he thought, but also much earlier than he'd hoped. He was pretty sure children weren't supposed to withstand this kind of punishment, but whatever. They were genetically modified or some other science mishmash. He watches from his throne (How weird was that? Seriously, she had been so poor compared to this life it was hard not to feel spoilt beyond her wildest dreams), barely paying attention as the rest of his siblings stand straight and declare their loyalty to discovering their potential. Brainwashed? Maybe they are.

He can trounce them easily right now. This was fact, built up from a head start and voluntary exercise for at least a few years. But whether that would remain a fact was not yet decided.

Goji is feared, Goji is respected, Goji is loved.

Goji is powerful.

He would remain so. Has to.

He trains with them, and then more than them, and then perhaps further than that. He's been watching and waiting for years, looking for the first sign of falling behind in Sanji.

He sees it. From where he's at, it's truly pitiful to watch him struggle with what seems like a mere jog for the rest of the crew and a lazier one for him. A dark urge to sneer rises up in him, mock his sibling for his utter incompetence in performing such a little task. Then he turns around and punches himself in the face, because he was being a fucking asshole. Dear Oda, he was literally a 20 year old! Had his maturity minimized along with his body?

He blames his father for rubbing off on him, and he blames himself for forgetting what weakness felt like. Still, he's pinpointed the beginning of the mess that would become Sanji's childhood, and that's always helpful. Nodding to himself, he takes a fast lap around the track, slowing down to what felt like a snail's pace next to the panting boy as he ignores the surprised looks of pretty much everyone (and wasn't that just terribly, terribly sad) on his back.

"Don't give up, niisan!" Goji cheers louder than he's ever really bothered talking before, shouting, "I know you can do it!" from next to him. Sanji shoots him an exhausted, grateful look, and he thinks he can see his legs move a bit faster. He resolves to give the other a few pointers on running technique later.

The horrid swimming scene comes next, and he drives himself to torpedo across the water faster than he's ever done before, reporting a new personal record snappily before diving back in. Breaking the waves as quickly as he can, he barrels forward in the water and dives just in time to see Sanji's form beginning to sink into the water, already half-dead from the track session. Goji drops like a stone, moving forward to curl an arm around the other's gut and hightailing it back to the surface.

He's glad he doesn't have to face the scene of a child's bloated body, and wonders again just how cruel his father is.

(She had been gentle, gentler than he could be anymore. He missed those days, where strength wasn't decided on your body but more of your soul. Here, it's always a brawl to be the best. Unfortunately.)

He insists on sitting in on their first class session. "I wish," he declares primly to his tutor, "To observe the progress of the others. I think it would be an educational experience on the development of the less gifted." He sounded like such a snob, ew, but it lands him a few weeks in their classes so he's okay with that. He still needs to study in his own time, of course, but sleep was for the weak.

Goji smiles when his brother (so so young and so so innocent) smiles fondly at the turtle, eyes sparkling in delight at such a tiny thing even as his face is covered with bruises. He's also too preoccupied in that to notice Yonji sauntering up to kick the turtle until he does.

(Children can be so so cruel and it really hurts to see his brother so gleeful and yet-)

Then it's chaos. Sanji explodes at his brother, reedy voice screaming in anger. The aforementioned jerk snarls and then manages to get one devastating punch in, strength serving him well.

He says one, because Goji is there the second the fight begins, intercepting his brother when nobody else will. As enhanced as Yonji might be, he's no match for someone also enhanced and also holding more years of experience under his belt.

He glares then, cold and crushing, hard enough that if looks could kill the fourth son would be on Mars without a spacesuit.

Yonji backs down.

Thank god.

He turns to the other, nursing a purple welt on his eye the size of an apple, picking up the turtle as he holds out a hand. "Sorry." Goji says.

And that's all.

But even after all of this, he can not spare the other from everything. Sparring is brutally one-sided, and he is not allowed to interrupt something that was pretty much in the rulebook, especially not with his Father standing right there.

But his chest burns at the other's laughter, and his hands are shaking when he realizes Niji is basically just beating Sanji half to death.

As soon as the match is over, he snatches a wooden sword from the nearest stand, storming over to the field. A silence falls, cheers abating. "You," Goji quietly snarls, channelling rage into icy concentration, "You, him, her, and him." he shoves the tip of his stick in each of their directions, ignoring how ballistically stupid this idea was. "Four against me. Now."

It's brutal.

He realizes he made a mistake when he wakes up to a white ceiling above of him, antiseptic scenting the air. He sighs, then stops halfway through, because breathing hurt. Blinking, he shakes away the fog invading his mind, trying to recall the spar.

Oh, yeah. He winces at the recalled thought. No matter how hard he had tried, a few years wasn't worth much when it was four versus one. One of which was at least marginally more experienced than the rest. He wonders if this incident had derailed his plans any, but then decides it doesn't matter. He could train harder then. Not a problem.

"Goji! You're awake!" He yelps as a voice screeches in his ear, twisting his head to the side to see a bruised and battered future cook. "I was so worried!" The boy blubbers, and Goji smiles.

In the end, if he's not training, Goji was easily found literally stalking his third brother around the house. Heck, he trails behind him like a lost duck while simultaneously training! Thank goodness for weights.

He likes to think he manages to dull the pain, but he can never be sure. But he tries, harder than he'd ever done with anything before.

"I think cooking sounds useful," he informs his Father matter-of-factly. "It could help with many things, like memorization, preparation, management skills, organization, hand eye coordination, general survival, and distinguishing poison. As deserving as we may be, we must be prepared for the worst. After all, potential is equivalent to power, and knowledge is also a form of power, no?" Goji then proceeds to 'order' Sanji to teach him the skill, announcing that the cooks were incompetent idiots with no real sense of talking to royalty. Their father is super unconvinced, but hey, at least he let's him.

"The mouse?" He sniffs, because snorting would be unbecoming for a perfect being such as him. "We're just using it to test for the effects of poison, Father. And it was an opportunity to test our cooking skills, anyway. Don't be ridiculous. Why would we ever feed that?" He picks the rodent up by its tail and studies it for a moment, before pocketing the squeaking animal. "I'm going to save it for live dissection. It should be interesting to see if I can perform any sort of operation while it's still alive. Maybe see what effects our treat had on the thing."

(He returns the rat to Sanji later, coldly advising to let it go. Goji melts a bit at the hurt look that the other gives him, giving the other a tight surprise hug. "Sorry," Sanji sobs in his ear, clutching the back of his shirt.

"I'm sorry too.")

"... Don't you think that's a sort of bullying on its own?" He asks Reiju softly, watching her hands nimbly work the bandages around Sanji's face. "To laugh at another's suffering… Is that truly what you think is the right thing to do? Although, I suppose I can understand your fear." He thinks his sister laughs a little less at the fights afterwards, patches Sanji up a bit more.

"Go away, you three. I've trained much more than you have, with the time you spend beating people up like utter brutes. Honestly, why do you even do this? Don't you have literally everything else to do? Don't make me tell Father that his precious children are ruining their potential by neglecting their work." Goji threatens darkly, bristling from his guard position in front of his brother. They glare at him, hackles rising, but they know he will make good on his promise. Besides, they can just come back later when he's not here, or maybe just take it out during sparring, which he was pretty much banned from going to after the last fiasco.

(He cannot believe half the bullshit he spews from his mouth works)

Sanji dies.

Sanji dies.

Sanji… dies?

He doesn't know what's going on, doesn't remember this, really can't think or breathe or talk or do anything-

But he trains.

He blocks everything out except training, training training training training training training training training training-

Sanji is dead and it's probably Goji's fault.

Everything's a blur at the funeral speech and all he can hear is his father spewing bullshit over lies and crocodile tears.

Godamnit.

He distantly hears his brother say something. Probably one last snark about his deceased brother.

Take in a deep breath, Goji, count to ten.

… Yeah, fuck that. The world explodes back into clarity for the instant of the fight, and he's acutely aware of him pummelling his brother with everything he had. He's also very aware of the other two trying to beat him up, but he's too past pain to feel it.

He wakes up the white ceiling and the smell of antiseptic for the third time in his life. He sighs, turns around, and goes to sleep.

He wakes up.

Trains.

Spars.

Fights.

Doesn't cook.

That's the end of that. Father tries to get him to open up, says he loves them. Goji doesn't care. He prays to his Mother on some nights instead, hoping she and Sanji were okay up… wherever they were.

When modifications are announced as available, he refuses vehemently and goes back to training. "I can beat them without using fancy gadgets." He mutters. That's not entirely true. The matches begin to get closer, losses accumulate.

But whatever. What did he care of that? As long as he was strong, Father wouldn't bother him.

The siblings hear stories of ghosts in the dungeons, and eventually, Ichiji brings up the topic of exploring. He shrugs, turns around, goes back to training. His gut screams at him that something is wrong, but he doesn't really care. Whatever was wrong could handle itself.

Turns out, it couldn't.

Goji screams both internally and externally as he bursts into the cage, alerted by Reiju, thank God. "GET OUT!" He roars at the three, barreling into them. "GET OUT!" Modifications be damned, he had been doing nothing but training relentlessly for three months and he could more than take their fledgling powers.

That was a fact.

Okay, maybe it wasn't, he discovered, being bandaged up by Reiju again. But fuck, he doesn't give a shit about that because Sanji is alive and not six feet under, and he's still blubbering into the said person's shirt after she finishes. "S-Sanji, I though-ht you were dead!" Goji wails, not even ashamed of his ugly crying anymore. "I'm so so-" his voice cracks, breath hitching. "Sorry! I should've… should've tried ha-harder!" Hell, why is he the one crying? That should be Sanji, except he's staring at them with a new sort of fire in his eyes that he's so, so relieved to see.

It meant he hadn't been broken.

Thank god. Thank god, thank god, thank god.

"It's alright." Sanji soothes him, although a few tears escape from his own eyes. "It's alright, and I'm alive."

Sanji is alive.

It takes a while for him to stop crying, but once he does, well-

The reality of what Father had done hits him hard. Gods, he never thought he'd meet a man so cruel. "You need to escape." He whispers. Reiju starts at the statement, and then agrees.

Sanji nods tears forming in his eyes, and that's that.

Luckily, there's an invasion going on soon. It's a hard, grueling three weeks of wait away, but it's going to happen. They survive the time together.

Then it's just a quick twist of the bars and a snatch of keys. He plays distraction while Sanji gets out, and Reiju plays the guide to the cruise ship. While he's stalling his father, chattering aimlessly, his mind wanders. If only he could follow his brother out… but that was impossible. Sanji would face starvation with just one other guy. Adding another mouth to feed was just asking for trouble.

Holding off the monster complete, he sprints outside, almost crashing into the other two as they hid. They're crying, he knows.

Goji is, too.

He knows the gist of what his Father would have said to Sanji. But he also has his own words to say. Taking a deep, shuddering breath to compose himself, he closes his eyes before changing his mind and opening them. He wanted to see his brother's face one last time before he left.

"Never," he begins, voice low and grating, "Never identify yourself as a part of this family." Goji glares at Sanji, not out of hatred or malice but out of pure desperation, a need for him to understand. "Don't you dare call yourself a Vinsmoke!" He shouts, shocking all three of them, although it's half-lost in the cries of dying people. "In fact, as Genius Prince and one of the heirs to the throne, I hereby excommunicate you!" Lurching, he lunges forward to grab Sanji in a tight grip, as if doing so would stop the knot in his chest from tightening. "Find yourself a better family, a better life, a better everything, you hear!? Don't you-" his voice breaks, and Goji takes another rattling breath. "DON'T YOU DARE CALL THIS PATHETIC FAMILY YOURS! I FORBID IT!" He screams, and Reiju breaks her calm exterior, wailing wildly as she chimes in.

"Never ever come back! This world is h-huge! Find people who treat you the way you deserve, Sanji!"

"Y-Yeah!"

Goji forces himself to let go, fingers mechanically unclenching from the other's shirt. "... Ha. I don't want to let go." He breathes, before speaking up again. "Run. Run away, don't you dare look back! Go!"

Sanji does what he's told.

Reiju and Goji are left there, crying in the middle of an invasion, clutching each other because that's all they have left, now.

It would have to be enough.

Goji accepts modifications.

As his eyes drift shut, he prays that he will stay kind.

* * *

 **Oops I tried-I'm not going to lie, Sanji's backstory really struck home. Please review!**


	2. Lifeline

**IT RETURNS. Thank you for your patience, everyone!**

* * *

Goji forgets.

He doesn't know how Reiju does it, manages to keep her head held high, even in the face of war and murder and _people are dying and he is killing them he never wanted this-_

So he forgets it. The modifications do half the job for him anyways. Somehow, he had managed to escape with some of his empathy intact (a boon Goji is fairly sure is due to his past life), but even now he can feel the gaping difference.

He embraces it. Sucks it in, holds it like a breath of air. Suffocates.

(After all, emptiness hurts a little less than regret, doesn't it? Better nothing than something.)

His hands take life after life after life in the name of his father (no, just judge, that monster is not his father), and he lets himself fall. There wasn't any point. His goal had been accomplished. There was nothing left to do. A future? He doesn't want one. He can still remember the first rebellion his father had sent him to put down, back when he was around nine years of age. He's ten and sent off- not to fight, but-

 _massacre_.

He was only nine.

She was only 24, now.

The raid suit on his back flares with both a deep purple and a sticky, sticky red. Warm iron and copper clings and pools in his mouth, clogging the back of his throat. It drips into his stomach with a viscosity that makes him want to puke.

 _Ah,_ He had thought back then, numb to the world and the war around him. _So this is how it is to take a life._

( _Ah,_ she thought _, I don't want to feel this anymore.)_

The knot in his chest tightens, and he drowns it under waves and waves of water instead. He washes that caring away, and the only thing he leaves behind is _Live_ and _Sanji will return._

 _Sanji will return, and then-_

 _maybe-_

At first, it's the little things he gives up on. The amount of time it takes for him to step in front of the victim. The seconds it takes for him to protest the abuse of their staff. The amount of time he contemplates rebelling against his father.

(The frequency he visits his mother's grave.)

Everything inches forward in margins. Seconds. Days. Years.

Tick. Tock.

Faster, faster, faster. Please.

He trains, kills, falls asleep. Wakes up, repeats. He's still the strongest, still the fastest, still the most skilled. He had to be. Won't let himself falter. Not until the end, when he could be free from Germa 66 and free from his father and free, free, _free._

(… Does he really deserve freedom?)

Once, Goji wonders why he tries. It takes him a minute to place Sanji's name to the face to the importance, and that scares him deeply.

"The first issue I would like to order as commander," He speaks gently, voice carrying across the salty breeze, "Is to ban any and all attempts to save me from blows that would be lethal to your own person." A pause. He can feel the stare of his father burning into his back, even from so far away. "I would prefer to train my own reflexes, and I require realistic scenario in order to do so. A commander cannot become to reliant on minions, lest they lose their own skill. I must continuously endeavor to further my limit of power, and I refuse to let _anything_ interfere."

It's the least he can do, really. At least a few deaths would stay off his conscience. He could protect his own.

Rebellion after rebellion, battle after battle, Goji wins war after war and loses more than he could have ever thought he could. Reiju doesn't interest him anymore, his brothers are only a mild annoyance. Everything turns blank, stained only with the purple they had placed upon his shoulders.

Not that he lets himself mind. He chose this path. Minimize damage. Do what he has to. A balance. _Protect_ and _obey._ Which one to do? He doesn't know. It's so much easier to obey, after all.

Eventually, he grows sick and tired of watching enemies turn to stone and crumble away, tired of watching red splash on his suit, tired of violet in his hair. Waking up is a nuisance, and training is the only relief.

 _His Raid Suit is ugly._

 _Like, really ugly._

 _Why the hell Oda tried to make a power-rangers fusion was beyond him, really. The powers were nice, he supposed, feeling his eyes burn from inside his skull. Strong. Easy to match up with his brothers. Easier._

 _He had always trained harder than them, after all. Besides, he didn't rely on weird technology half as much, so he liked to think he was better at fighting without. Though they_ were _quite helpful. Modifications to his 'Life Map' (or whatever they called it, Goji didn't really care) really did seem to maximize a lot of his fighting efficiency. Cost? Empathy._

 _Well, he had always wanted to be strong. Here was his wish. A wish of power. Running and fighting and pushing, mixed now with something akin to Medusa and purple and lack of emotional pain._

 _(Goji was, of course, going to use it all to kill people._

 _..._

… _Let's not think about that.)_

One afternoon, washing up after spending half his day swimming, he catches a glance of himself in the mirror. It's strange, even now, to see something so different than what he had seen for more than half his life.

Goji studies his own face for a long minute, drinking in the sight of his reflection with a rare thirst for something from the past. Well, that wasn't meant to be. Not even a girl, not anymore. Sad.

He had the same curly eyebrows as most of his family, he notes absentmindedly, with a strong jaw. How eyebrow shape managed to stay spiraled through hereditary genes, he'll never know. Annoyingly enough, his eyes are small and beady, so different from Reiju's larger pupils. Ugly. The blond hair his mother had loved is gone. Instead, it's long and shiny and violently purple. Ugly.

… Which scientists decided on these aesthetic choices, anyways?

He looks…

… Goji doesn't like it.

The next morning, he ties a blindfold over his eyes. He doesn't take it off.

Judge is _not_ happy. Goji just barely manages to bullshit his ass out of _that_ one. Something about honing reflexes and shit.

Training is _hell_ for the next few months. His father literally does not seem to understand the words of _going easy_ and _getting used to it._ So he ends up spending the first three months being ruthlessly beaten up the entire time, whee. His brothers in particular, they enjoy playing _Try to Kill the Blind Man_.

He's in the infirmary a lot, to say the least.

 _Well, at least he knows how Sanji felt. God, his brothers are fucking assholes._

"Goji, I must insist you see sense in taking that thing off," Reiju sighs in exasperation, pinching the bridge of her nose. That was Reiju-speak for 'stop being a goddamn _idiot'._ "I truly don't understand why you continue to keep it on."

A soft laugh, hoarse and tired. "Sorry, Rei-nee. I… Just like it." Sure, it's hard now, but. Surely it would get a little better. So he didn't have to watch himself doing whatever Judge ordered him to do. Doesn't have to watch himself see the blood he's spilling. Selfish, but just a little thing like this-it didn't matter, did it?

And if it didn't get better, maybe he wouldn't have to go back at all (As if Judge would let _that_ happen).

Goji is glad Reiju bears with him so much throughout the years; She's kind in a way his brothers could never be. He would never be able to stand it, if he was surrounded by sociopathic robots. As much as interest fails him now, they've been through a lot together.

" _Reiju."_

" _Goji."_

" _..."_

" _Are you happy now? I warned you not to go through with the surgery, you know. It's not what Mother would have wanted."_

" _I know."_

" _Do you."_

" _... I just. Need to be stronger. For when. For when I can leave. Or… For something. I want to survive." He sucks in a breath. "... Just. I… H-have to wonder. Though. Does… Being so empty always fe-feel so bad?" A crack. He doesn't know why. It feels so muted._

 _He_ hates _it._

 _Reiju sneaks into his room that night, rocking him to sleep. She's gone by daylight._

His older sister eyes him, disbelief flickering through. More open than she'd be with anyone else. "Easier? I'll remind you this is the seventh time you've landed in the infirmary bed. In the span of a month."

"... I know. It's… just… Hmm, it's just lighter. I think."

(He likes to think he is mysterious. Reiju is just concerned.)

Another month into narrowly avoiding the daily fratricide attempt at the hands of the 1-through-4-Ji (not including number 3) mgang, things get _weird._ And, of course, not in his immediate favor. Why, one might ask?

 _Guess who forgot that Haki was a thing!_

He's an _idiot,_ you know. Had he really gotten that out of touch with his memories? Nobody really talked about Haki much, considering it could really just be replaced with all the technology they had around here-And due to the fact that science was not his forte-but still. Really.

But hey! No more getting his ass beat by his brothers. No more seeing blood. Being able to predict attacks was really helpful, as well.

… This was better, wasn't? Carefully, carefully. Less blood on his hands. Less blood. Not nearly as bad, right?

 _Wrong, he discovers, on his first night back on duty. Wrong, he finds, when he can see so many more people so_ clearly _, everywhere and all the time and always. Wrong, he sees, when lights flicker out like candles without so much a pop._

 _It is so hard to spare people. The chasm in his gut grows._

… Life moves on, no matter how many he takes.

 _Sanji._

 _Come back to take me away from here, come back to kill me._

 _I want to meet you one more time. Maybe then-_

 _Maybe then, I can remember why I cared so much._

 _Do you think your captain could pull a miracle on someone like me?_

(Of course he can. He's _Luffy_.)

The bounty papers lining his walls become a lifeline, despite how ugly Sanji looks in his. (... Isn't it the wrong guy?)

...

He'll make it. Goji will make it. He'll see them. Real life anime characters, how fascinating! It would be fun, to have a real adventure. A real, real adventure, where he can smile freely and not have to feel Judge looming down on him.

Ah, wouldn't it be nice to join Luffy's crew? A real-life fantasy. A real-life dream. _Kind of sad, to be pining after your disowned brother's crew from however many miles away._ But from what he remembers from the show, they were all having so much fun, weren't they? He liked to fantasize, just a little, what life on the Sunny would be like.

Brook would sing songs, make skull jokes, and probably would have asked to see his underwear, if he had still been a girl. Zoro would spar, drink some sake, grin and be his weird self with his grumpy naps and undying loyalty. Usopp would tell some tall-tale, Goji could tell another. Share stories from their home-her real home. Chopper would probably freak out over his Exoskeleton being dented in the first time, and then melt in the praise Goji would inevitably dump him in. He was, of course, adorable. Nami would extort the hell out of him, Robin would smile mysteriously (she was probably a lot better at it than he was), and Franky would do something involving cola-powered ships and transformers and the raid suit.

Sanji would smile at him, wide and bright and still with that stupid dumb cancer stick of his, and be _happy_.

And Goji? Goji would smile and laugh and cry and _forget_ about everything that had happened and finally have his stupid happy ending. The end.

It would be happy. So warm and happy.

Luffy solved everything, one way or another. He wondered if he was worthy enough to get that stupid-meaningful hat schtick.

Probably not.

Well, either way, Goji wants to have that dream, if nothing else. It's a nice thought, something more than him. A fantastical dream life, one just for him. Selfish and quiet as it was, it was so nice. He couldn't stop thinking about it, sometimes.

Selfish, selfish.

Maybe Reiju could come with him. Maybe they could find a way to fix his brothers. Maybe they could leave their Germa days far behind them. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Dream a dream of happiness, dream a dream of freedom.

Goji might not have a future, but he'll make it there anyways.

… _Please don't hate me, Sanji._

* * *

He's off putting down another rebellion when the news arrives.

"Prince Goji. Your long-lost brother has been recovered. Prince Sanji, he's coming back!"

He's _days_ away from home, right now.

(Reiju always found ways to sneak around Father's orders.)

* * *

 **Please review! Thank you very much!**


	3. Breathe

Five days until the wedding.

He's gonna be _late_. God _damnit._

Goji should have fucking known. His father was an asshole, not an idiot. Of course he'd send him away beforehand, of course he wouldn't tell _Goji_ -When he was the only member who seemed to care about Sanji at all. Want him to keep busy, stay detached, keep out of the way of his stupid fucking empire. Shit. _Shit!_ No wonder he wanted to send _just_ Goji into this damn Broccoli war when they _clearly_ requested two goddamn people. Something about how he could handle the job himself, how he needed to get off his ass and do more work-Goji hadn't known it was so close to the plot kicking up.

Shit.

This meant the Big Mom and the Pudding girl was already pulling their magic veil over everyone's faces. This meant that Sanji would probably get into trouble while he was gone. That meant he had to hurry up and _get the hell back._ Sanji was back, he's _back-_

 _Sanji is back._

 _My brother is back and if I'm not there, Judge will have hell to pay._

He's back, he's back, he's _back._ He'll finally be able to see his brother again, after so long. Finally be able to escape. Finally be able to see Germa 66 fall, finally be able to reunite, finally be a part of something like a future.

Goji's lifeline is _so damn close_ he can _taste it._

And if Judge thought he could keep him away from _that-_

"... How long will it take to return?"

"F-Four days, sire, if everything goes according to plan! Brock Colie is only one war." And really, Goji thinks, if there was anything to commit patricide over-This was it. Totally and absolutely. "We only need to collect the payment, then."

Four days. One to return, three for the job. There are a lot of people here, after all, and this revolution is so very old. Bad blood runs everywhere, even if the people are tired of fighting.

 _(He was here to end it. Deliverance, perhaps, from the war._

 _In the end, it's all about the gold.)_

"Make it two. Cut down on return time." He closes his eyes, voice blunt, "I… Will end the opposition by tomorrow morning." A tall order for a one-man job, but doable all the same. With copious amounts of technology abuse, of course.

They would have died anyway. Goji just needed to make it faster. So it didn't matter so much, did it? He was only doing his job. So it didn't matter, not this.

It never did.

(He doesn't care about much, these days, and if Sanji reminds him just a little bit about what he used to feel and makes him think a little longer about the guilt on his shoulders, then that would be salvation enough.)

He doesn't listen to the reply of the soldier. It didn't really matter, they'd get it done. Absolute obedience had its advantages. Goji heaves a sigh. Yes, quite the advantage. Honestly, with the way his brothers overused them-and quite distastefully so-It's no wonder he's able to one-up them in battle. The technology was cool, yes, but that didn't mean so much when you didn't have your own skill.

… The flight boots _were_ impressive, though...

Well, nevermind that, he had some cannon fodder ( _lives)_ to kill.

So he does just that.

(The funniest thing, you know, is that no matter how much empathy or sympathy or humanity you chuck away, there would always be a selfish need for pleasure.

That's how children were, too.)

"Sorry," Goji says, though it's mild and empty and hidden under someone's screams, "I won't make it hurt." That's a lie, of course, but as he feels his haki ripple out premonitions of bullets and swords and desperation that can't even touch him, he can't say that he wouldn't try. His hands are too slow to kill, so he reluctantly removes his blindfold instead. The sudden light hurts, but that's the least of his problems.

He ducks under the swing of a sword, so slow it's almost embarrassing to watch, and skips back. "It's alright." A resignation, preparation. "It won't take long."

No, it won't. Not at all. Fighting these people is nothing compared to fighting Niji and Yonji. Especially when they try to tag-team him, a tactic that he (quite unfortunately) still can't find a way around. Surely, he isn't relieved, but…

For once, the simplicity of a slaughter is something he is grateful for.

A step, a crackle from his heels, and the world blurs. He disappears, a streak of neon violet trailing behind his wake. It's as simple as that, and the show of him vanishing in front of the peoples' eyes is enough to make them pause. They murmur, pulsing in a terror that Goji has near-forgotten how to taste.

He cracks into existence with a flicker and a _snap-Ah, he'll surely regret this, he knows_ -"Medusa Eye _._ "

 _How quiet._

The man he's looming over isn't a man anymore, merely a statue. Stone, through and through.

They crumble without a sound.

Ichiji and Niji and Yonji, they liked destruction. They liked the rush of power and the sparkly lights from explosions and being the strongest. They liked their dominance and their superiority and being the best. They liked it and loved it and it made them feel happy, so why not pursue such a wonderful sensation?

Nobody else mattered to them, not really. Not in any way that counts. Not even Judge or Reiju or Goji or each other. Not if they were weak. Doesn't matter if they're siblings or family or anything, doesn't matter if Judge might love them or Reiju might hate them or Goji might care. They'd leave them behind without a single look backward. Perhaps he's being unfair to Ichiji and Yonji and Niji because it's really Judge's fault, but sometimes it's hell to think and realize that none of them would really do anything for him.

 _Yonji is the brashest of them all. He's a douchebag, naturally inclined to be a jerk. He thinks the least and gets himself into trouble the most, does things because he wants to and doesn't think about the consequences until later. Goji has definitely had to deal with his shit more than once._

 _Yonji's also the one that picks him up after a fight, offers a "Get up, you lazy ass, I know you're not dead, now help me beat up fugly over there," grins at him with lopsided exhilaration during a fight and drags him to a bar afterward. He's the one who yells at him with a laugh and "I can be cooler than you, prick!" before showing off and probably getting his ass beat by Ichiji for being too loud. Yonji is the one that slings his arm around his shoulders to whistle about that hot girl down the street and then Goji has to remind him that he can't see shit._

 _Niji's a prick. He's stuck up. That's all there is to it. His ego's the size of a mountain. He acts all cool and calm, but everyone knows he's vindictive as hell. Smarter than Yonji, at least, but totally likes gloating about it. He's a picky bastard and won't do anything he doesn't want._

 _And yet he's the guy who grumbles about being the shortest and eating his vegetables. He bores easily and drags Goji along with a smirk and a laugh and an offhand "Thanks," needling him about sparring and technique and technology. They have their weekly game match- "That move isn't even legal, Niji," "Yes it fucking is, I read the rulebook, damnit,"-And then the loser has to clean up the other's room. They fly together for fun, and Goji has to stop him from punching birds when they get in the way._

 _Ichiji likes to be the mastermind. He's the worst of them all when it comes to cruelty, likes to gloat in silence and sneer with a look. You can never beat him in an argument, not really, and he knows that just as well as you. Expected, from the leader number one. The worst._

 _But Ichiji smiles at him when he does well. He's not relaxed, per say, but he's mellowed in a way Ichiji and Niji could never dream of. They talk about things like politics and technology and pirates, and then sillier things like tattoos and food and the best hair care on the market ("I don't know why you swear by Saitama's, he's clearly bald"). His favorite drink after alcohol is tea, and it's safest next to him because Ichiji will watch out for him if he needs it. ("Don't get distracted, just do your damn job.")_

…

 _And none of that matters, in the end._

 _Goji thinks he might understand why Reiju hates them._

Personally speaking, he runs off memories. He doesn't like explosions, anyway. Power is nice, but he- _she_ remembers that this is wrong. Don't do more damage than you have to. Indiscriminate killing is bad. Don't set the country alight. Spare the weak, the ruined, the hungry. This war has been raging for years. The people are tired. It's more efficient, too.

He'll get home faster. That was his 'pleasure', after all.

The War of Brock Colie might have raged as it burnt out, screaming amidst a blast of screams and glory. Instead, it shudders, trembles, fades away. He'd normally help clean out all the new statues and chunks of rock littering the place, but he's busy today and there's no time for that. The contract is fulfilled. They pack up, get paid, and that's the end of that. He kicks the crew into full speed, anxiety tight in his throat.

Next stop, Whole Cake Island.

 _He needs to get back, needs to go, needs to see his brother-his dream, his future, his salvation-he needs to see him, Sanji is so close-_

 _And then what?_

The knot in his chest tightens and grows. He jitters his leg, paces a hole into the floor, sits and stands and sits down again. They've barely departed. Hardly moved.

He'll be late.

Goji definitely can't have that.

"... I'm going ahead. You can all get back, correct? I will see you at Whole Cake Island." Goji throws the command over his shoulder and promptly jumps overboard, kicking forward with his flight boots at full speed.

Even the wind, gently carding its fingers through his hair, fails to make him feel like he won't vomit.

…

The reaction he gets when he stumbles in through front door a day early (not early enough) is… well, eventful. It's nighttime, so it's not nearly as big as it might have been, but eventful all the same. He's exhausted. It shows.

" _Master Goji_?" A guard gapes at him. "What-Where are the others-Did you-" He swallows, and his face would be hilarious if Goji wasn't so damn _tired_.

"Quiet. I finished the job. Wanted to come early." He says shortly, running a hand through greasy hair as he sweeps past the poor guy without giving him a chance to reply. "Don't make a fuss. Tell Judge and Big Mom, if you must. Ship's coming behind."

Now that he's touched down, the pounding in his chest is growing worse. His haki reaches involuntarily, seeping out in waves for that one person, for Sanji. It was nervewracking before, so far away. Now that he's close?

He thinks his heart might beat out of his damn throat. His hands are sweating, his knees might shake. His stomach is doing flip-flops that make him want to scream.

Fucking _hell_. Goji sucks in a breath. God. Oda. Spare him the heartache. Please.

"You know, you could do to learn some manners, little brother."

 _Reiju_.

He… Didn't notice her. Hopefully she didn't notice him having a mental breakdown, or something. He offers a shrug in return, clearing his throat.

She's the same as ever, his big sister. Pretty in pink. Hard to read, calm, placid. Never telling anyone anything. That was her thing, he supposed. Still, she's the nicest one in the palace, by way of his opinion. They were partners in crime. _Used to be_ partners in crime.

He's never been sure, not since the modifications.

"You aren't hurt?" It's a simple question, neatly given. If only Goji could be more like her. It would make this a lot easier. Did she feel this anxious, when she first met their estranged brother?

"No." A pause, and a swallow rings audibly throughout the hall. "... Sanji?"

"He's here." Reiju confirms, and and smiles. "You'll be able to find him, I'm sure. Go see him."

Goji is moving before she finishes talking. Perhaps it was rude, to brush her off so quickly, but he can't think about it now. Walk? Too long-He doesn't know where Sanji's room is. He's not going to deal with Judge earlier than he has to, and he's not going to get delayed by asking someone. He needs to get to Sanji.

 _Sorry, Zeroji._

With that fleeting thought in mind, Goji turns on his heel and throws himself out the nearest window. There's a familiar flash of light, and he's gone. Reiju just sighs and smiles, going to run damage control while Goji near kills himself getting to his brother. By that, he means something akin to 'resisting the urge to rip out your own heart before you go deaf from the beat racing in your ears' and 'not screaming his lungs out before he hyperventilates'.

 _Sanji's here, Sanji's here, Sanji's here, oh shit oh fuck oh my god_ -His throat is dry, his nerves are absolutely shot to hell, and he nearly trips over the balcony railing instead of landing properly. He's terrified, he knows, and it's such a relief to know he can still be scared. Goji nearly bites his tongue off as he stands up, feeling the irrational urge to wriggle out of his skin and scream.

His throat's dry. He's not even within sight of his brother and he's already having a nervous breakdown. He just got home from a war. He's a mess. He's tired.

 _What does he say?_

Luckily for him, he doesn't have to choose. It's only a couple moments of panic before he hears footsteps behind him instead, nearly giving into the urge to shriek as he spins around- _He's got no time for people,_ _who the hell is it_ -

Sanji.

(Well, they did say Observation Haki worked best when you were calm.)

* * *

 **Please review i'm dying these two reuiniting**

 **how do you think it'll go?**


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